gracias instead of danyabaat

I am found of reading quotes, or phrases from books that catch my attention. In a Darjeeling NGO that helps women sell their own handy crafts I walked into the office of a staff member with quotes upon quotes posted and found the following:

"Sometimes you have to get lost before you find your way"

This pulled at my heart strings the way the upright bass does in a somber song of yearning for something not quite obtainable, maybe not even seen. And here I find myself in Katmandu not having a hard time losing my way. I do have a good guide in my brother who speaks the language and knows many people, but he seems to be lost in life in a different sense maybe making us the perfect pair for an adventure, or the worst pair depending on which perspective you choose to take. And though I’m feeling lost, I do not quite feel in a lack of harmony with my surroundings. I’m actually in quite in awe of many of the new senses that surround me as one would imagine in a different culture.

What I do feel is a bit scattered, and rightfully so, I have been in three continents in the past week, an amazing feat. I took a leave of absence from my job and November 1 set off for India to visit my brother and volunteer with HIV/AIDS, as well as live in a totally different day to day existence. And that I have done. I have spent the first month and a half visiting my brother and visiting various NGOs with AIDS programs in the Darjeeling District. I gave a few classroom presentations on AIDS awareness while visiting with my former co-worker Brother Innocent for a week in the states of Assam and Megalaya. Upon return from my trip with visiting Brother Innocent I have met many contacts at Darjeeling and Kalimpong NGOs and refer to several of these people as friends now. And I have learned much within this time frame due mostly to my brother having many of these contacts before I came.

I have gone to bed with the sun and risen with the sun. I have taken bucket showers and after the bathroom have wiped with left hand and water instead of toilet paper. I have tried various words in different languages with my tongue. And I have learned that a turn of the head after a question signifies a yes, rather than the no I first thought. I have eaten with my right hand (the left is for the bathroom) rather than spoon or fork. I have sat next to chickens in long jeep rides over pot hole filled roads. I have seen the great affection and hand holding among men in public which is not seen with the opposite sex, save for after marriage and behind closed doors. I have had my hands painted with henna. I have drank surely a rivers amount of chyiaa. I have learned to make dal bhaat, chiyaa, sunflower bread, carrot cake, momos, and kewadesi from the friends in Darjeeling and Kalimpong. I have bought and worn a Punjabi. And oh so much more….

Winter is upon the hills of Darjeeling and although there is no snow, still exists a chill that doesn’t leave your bones and one can find no respite inside save for the occasional space heater as there is no central heating indoors. With the children leaving for their winter breaks and the drug rehabilitation program KRIPA (which I spent much of my time talking to about drug use and HIV in Darjeeling) going to another valley where the weather is warmer I have little more I can do at this time as for volunteering other than trying to figure out ways to get more direct funding to these organizations, which seems easier to do when I have better internet access. So, while my brother is on break from his job and I am in the area I will be taking the next month to travel with him in Nepal and then make a decision on what to do for the final month of travel before I am due back to my job in March. And while I am in Katmandu I will try to visit some AIDS organizations here, a much larger city with a better info structure for such services. And otherwise I will just travel and enjoy while I am here, go trekking, maybe see the birth place of Buddha, maybe ride an elephant in Chitwan National forest. And of course continue the real cultural experience of Nepal by being invited to many people’s houses so they can pile dal bhaat (lentals, rice) and vegetables on my plate to an extreme that I will never be able to eat. What love! It is great to have people show you the true culture of an area and I prefer this travel to any other.

Three continents, you may be still wondering. I left for India and found myself in Spain and Morocco and back in India. How did I do this? I still ask myself this question. It started with my brother was having a very difficult semester with his job and missing his girlfriend back in the states. She insisted that we should meet her in Spain with a mutual friend that lives there. And for me having to make this decision to get the ticket before I had made any good friends in India yet and not yet totally comfortable spending the holidays alone in India (or having my brother miss a chance to see his girlfriend to stay with me in india), I gave my brother a Christmas gift of going with him to Spain while he gave me the Christmas gift of subsidizing part of my trip and a day in Tangier, Morocco. And so Christmas was indeed spent in a Christian enclave, but not Goa or anywhere in India, rather in a different continent altogether. Europe. So I spent Christmas in a beautiful small town of Rhonda inbetween Granada and Seville, surrounded by olive fields and divided by an amazing gorge. And to my surprise the town was quite lively during Christmas Eve as most of the town will close from 9pm-midnight for dinner with the family only to reopen the bars until maybe 6am for festivities. What a way to celebrate! I suppose there is no hurry to bed as Santa doesn’t come on Christmas day, rather the three kings come baring presents on Jan 6, so might as well go to the bars.

A day in Morocco was what I was most excited to do. Africa! But a day of tourism with 100 others in your group seems to be not my most ideal experience. And although I can now say I have been in Africa, I am not sure how much of my experience was a true sense of how the people of tangier live. None the less, I got to go and am quite happy having had the chance. And Spain we had enough time to stuff our mouth with one grape each dong of the clock at midnight, so 12 in all, before we shoved off for a flight back to India. And luckily we missed the bombing that took place in a parking structure of the Madrid airport one day before our departure. And for those who thought that India was dangerous! Ah, I say, living day to day is a danger, no matter how safe you feel. I think living in fear is dangerous and is not living at all.

So I am scattered in the sense of feeling that no where is my home at the same time I feel that everywhere could be my home. I suppose it was fitting that I spent the first day of the New Year suspended in the air above the earth. And coming from Spain, a land of riches and of people with a history of conquering to India a place of extreme poverty and a history of conquerors taking their land, the scattered feeling again. I suppose I feel in the middle of these worlds where for the first time in my life I have enough money to travel and be rich beyond so many people that live in India and Nepal. And I will return to NYC to be amongst such great wealth, working with people in the US that do not have much wealth but still more than many that I have seen in these developing countries, and I will again be in the middle.

So having just streamed these words to this page I wonder if I have given more information than you wanted. I had some time so I thought I would write. Writing. . . such a good therapy. Off I am to remain lost until I can find my way.